


Just Like

by marimoes



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age II
Genre: Confessions, Early Act 2, Fluff, Healing, M/M, Pre-Relationship, Short & Sweet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-14
Updated: 2021-01-14
Packaged: 2021-03-12 01:01:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,127
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28751838
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/marimoes/pseuds/marimoes
Summary: “Not unless I want the wrong people hearing them, unfortunately,” Anders sighed. Hanging his head he groaned, soft, before drawing his gaze back. “It’s no problem. Honestly. I know you would do the same for me, if you had the ability. You do things otherwise… in your own way.”“Chaos raining down on everything I touch like wild magic?” Hawke asked, rubbing the back of his head. Laughing, he shook his head. “And of course. The people I love have that luxury don’t they?” Mouth frozen around the last word, he stopped, pressing his lips shut.“What?” Anders asked, brows twitching slightly in confusion.
Relationships: Anders & Male Hawke (Dragon Age), Anders/Male Hawke
Comments: 3
Kudos: 26





	Just Like

The warm pooling of Anders’ magic gathered against Hawke’s back, mending the places that broke through his armor. There had been more bandits than he had expected, waiting in the wings while they worked on dealing with the initial group. One jumped down, dual daggers wielded and gasped when they drug down his spine. 

He pushed them off with dispelled energy, keeping the blades from cutting too deep, but the damage was done regardless. 

Pulling back, Anders hummed, looking over the wounds a last time. Each light touch against Hawke’s spine was near maddening, but he dare not flinch. Horrible that he relished these moments. Joy precursed by pain. 

“Thank you for your help,” Hawke said, rolling his neck, “I wouldn’t have made it without you out there and _definitely_ not without you here.” 

A light snort pressed from Anders’ nose in argument. “I make you poultices. Use them.” 

“But you’re _much_ better.” 

“Flattery will get you nowhere, messere,” Anders said, eyeing him with a barely there grin. It pulled at the corner of his mouth, baring his teeth. “I can’t always come with you and I might not always be here when you return. So, please—” 

“Yes, yes,” Hawke sighed, dancing forward on a foot before spinning on the front to face him again. “I promise that I will use what you gave me. I might act like it, but I don’t actually have a death wish.” 

“Could’ve fooled me,” Anders tsked, picking up a cloth, wiping his hands free of salve and blood. 

Settling, Hawke eyed him, grin now genuine and voice steady when he spoke. The adrenaline was wearing off and replacing itself with something new that made his heart race. Gold, shiny, and kind. 

“I appreciate you and your help, Anders. Always. I know the city does as well. More people should sing your praises,” Hawke offered, along with his hand in the gap between them. A space he couldn’t yet close. 

“Not unless I want the wrong people hearing them, unfortunately,” Anders sighed. Hanging his head he groaned, soft, before drawing his gaze back. “It’s no problem. Honestly. I know you would do the same for me, if you had the ability. You do things otherwise… in your own way.” 

“Chaos raining down on everything I touch like wild magic?” Hawke asked, rubbing the back of his head. Laughing, he shook his head. “And of course. The people I love have that luxury don’t they?” Mouth frozen around the last word, he stopped, pressing his lips shut.

“What?” Anders asked, brows twitching slightly in confusion.

Hawke swallowed, building his usual bravado back up. “You know,” Taking a breath he tried to run it through. He couldn’t very well just brush it off and compare Anders to the others because that was the _point_ , Anders wasn’t like the others. He was more like—“like my mother. Like Carver if he actually decided to give me the time of day rather than a mean look.” 

Anders blinked at the explanation, hovering in the in-between, face clearly trying to work out exactly what Hawke was saying. He opened his mouth, seemed to consider his words and shut it again. He did that twice before speaking and each time Hawke added another five feet to the grave he was about to go dig for himself. Seeing as his mouth already gave him ten as a head start. 

“You consider me like family?” Anders finally said. 

_Yes._ Hawke thought, smiling again without meaning to. The concept of Anders being amongst those in his family was… incredible. 

“Right, _right_ ,” Hawke confirmed, crossing his arms, waving his hand a little. “You’re an apostate, a Ferelden,” he swallowed at the basics, knowing that wasn’t why, “you’re a friend, Anders. A confidante. A healer that puts up with far too much from the city much less me.” 

An uncomfortable laugh came from Anders’ lips. “You’re really laying it on thick today. Maybe I should’ve checked your head a little better. Are you sure they didn’t clock you there?” 

Taking a step towards him, Hawke let his arms fall along with his guard. If they were ever going to be something—anything beyond this—he couldn’t lie to Anders. The certainty had to be there, always. That he wanted him in a way he didn’t want anyone else. Love him in a way that he didn’t harbor for the others. 

They started this dance years ago in this very spot, giving and offering pieces of themselves that the other didn’t understand yet. There was a lot that happened since that night at the Chantry. Too much for any normal person to stick around for, yet Anders did so with an easy smile and crinkles against his eyes. Hawke accepted them, eagerly, offering his own wolfish grin back. 

When would their arms be so full of the other they weren’t themselves anymore? 

“I’m perfectly fine,” Hawke said, voice low, eyes trying to deliver what he couldn’t also say. 

Anders pursed his lips, breathing shallow behind them. There was something swimming in his eyes alongside fear and Hawke could see it. Affection. Uncertainty. He wasn’t wrong about them, the time just wasn’t right. They weren’t right yet. 

Taking a step back from Anders, Hawke took a breath, carding his fingers through his hair lazily. They were both tired and even being healed, his body needed time where he was lying still, undisturbed. 

“I should rest. Let the healing take,” Hawke offered, throwing a weak smile at Anders, and it grew wider when the other mage returned it. “Healer’s orders?” 

Anders nodded, walking up to him quietly. With a single hand, he cupped Hawke’s face, pressing a small amount of healing magic into his fingers. A cut against his jaw pulled back together and Anders hummed, content. Leaving his hand there for a moment, he caught Hawke’s eyes before releasing him to turn away. 

“Yes, Hawke, rest,” Anders said, quiet, but firm. His lips pulled into a closed smile. “ _Anders’_ orders.” 

With a stone in his stomach, Hawke sighed, giving a soft salute before turning away. He had to get out of here before he did something he was going to regret. Before he could _say_ anything else he couldn’t reason his way into. Lingering at the door of the clinic, his hand curled around the worn wood, tapping it gently in a soft cadence. 

“Thank you, Anders,” Hawke called warmly, thumping a final hand against the door before releasing it. Throwing the hand up, he tried to weakly slip back on nonchalance. It came out as sincere as he desired it, instead. “Take care of yourself, promise?” 

“I promise,” Anders pledged and watched Hawke slip back into Darktown with a grin on his face. 

**Author's Note:**

> The boys... 
> 
> Twitter: @fondofthehowes


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